


i always fall from your window to the pitch black streets

by r1ker



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: M/M, inside contains law and order references, points to whoever can remember the episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-13 00:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4501338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r1ker/pseuds/r1ker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>post rogue nation. three of the world's agents need their downtime too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i always fall from your window to the pitch black streets

**Author's Note:**

> twitter squad strikes once again with this
> 
> b & b squad forever
> 
> (the svu episode ethan and will are watching has some content warning for brother/sister mishaps btw)
> 
> title from fob's the kids aren't alright btw

The first thing Benji does when he gets back home to his apartment is sit on the couch, still filthy and trembling with low blood sugar and fear, and cry. As always in his own mannerisms it starts off slow but soon he finds himself unable to stop, sobs catching in the dry lining of his throat and finally escaping through his gritted teeth.

 

It’s not an act of sniveling or a lack of self-control like someone who had no prior knowledge of his prior situation, it’s just that he’s _so tired_. He’s tired of running around like this and getting completely whipped in the process, deconstructed entirely only to be rebuilt in a way he would not suggest anyone to be done in. _Look at me, weeping like a child stuck at daycare wanting mommy and daddy_ , he thinks once it seems to have gone on for what feels like hours.

 

He can remember the hands grabbing him and shoving him into a car, forcing him into Lane’s submission and control and now he wrings his hands uselessly over his shoulders and forearms, wanting that touch to be gone and just to be clean again and –

 

A knock at the door sounds and it drags him out of his revelry. He stands on shaky feet and ignores the way the shakes make him unable to walk properly as he goes to the door. Now more than ever he takes a preliminary glance through the peephole. He’s expecting the worst; his shoulders are drawn in preparation of what could be an attack lingering just behind the door, when he spots Will. A gust of breath comes out through his nose and a beat passes before he unlatches all four locks and opens the door.

 

Will comes bearing not only his chipper self but a healthy-sized bag of take-out tucked into the crook of one elbow. He looks about as beat as Benji is but a little cleaned up, hair damp and styled and clothes fresh. The smile fades from his creased face when he sees Benji’s current state.

 

“I bought food,” he offers just as Benji breaks back down again. With unabated shame his filthy hands hide his face. Will makes a move to make sure the food is safe on the ground before he pries Benji’s hands away to look at him. Will sees the way his own hands cradle Benji’s jaw, weathered thumbs swiping away tears just as quick as they fall. “Come on, we’ll eat and cry some more. You’re going to be okay, Ben, just let me come in and take care of this.”

 

Benji nods and steps aside to let Will in, who’s gone to the floor again to retrieve the food before stepping in and locking the door behind them. Benji goes to the couch, sweeping things off of the coffee table to allow for a place for them to eat.

 

“I didn’t know what to get so I just got you one of everything,” Will explains as he empties both of the bags. “We’ll get you all set.” And one of everything was certainly what he got, Benji spies through the blur of tears; there is literally everything the Chinese place down the block has to offer in neat red and white boxes, wax paper and aluminum foil trays.

 

Something that’s most definitely not from the Chinese restaurant is shoved blindly over to one corner of the table, a neat little stack of Butterfingers and chocolate oranges on a coaster. In front of the candy he didn’t know Will knew he liked it something else that isn’t a thing the restaurant offered, a trio of Aero bars and cluster of Freddos.

 

Benji doesn’t know why he starts crying more. The goddamned Aero bars and the Freddos – smaller and smaller as the years tick by, he laughs tearfully at that little fact of his other life – strike something in him and it ignites a fire of insatiable emotions that don’t seem to really have an origin. Just the fact that Will would show up at eleven at night with Chinese food and candy and have no sort of reasoning behind it makes him feel so much better.

 

And also hungry, he supposes. It’s been two days, he thinks, since he last ate and the light-headedness is starting to take over.

 

Will yanks a few tissues out of the box by the lamp near the couch and hands them over to Benji. “Here, dry your face.” Benji does so, hands still trembling as they grip the tissues tightly. “Have no fear, I am here.”

 

“Ethan’s on his way,” Will says quietly, trying to calm him down. He starts opening up a carton with his name on it and digging in with a set of white cutlery. He takes a couple of bites of what appears to be stir fry and looks up at Benji, who looks at the food before him hesitantly. “And if you want to see him instead of passing out on account of your own hypoglycemia, I’d start in on the pork. Right there in front of you, in the little red box. Hop to it.”

 

Benji nods and goes for it, a pack of silverware, and opens them both. The smell hits him immediately, almost knocking him back from his seat in front of the table. It’s both good and bad, a little overwhelming for there is nothing on his stomach. He shovels forkfuls of it into his mouth, blinking away tears all the while, and once he’s sufficiently tired of the taste it leaves lingering on his tongue he starts to plunder through the pile for more to find.

 

His senses really want him to delve into what looks to be a box of noodles and he attacks them. Will looks at him all the while, thankful that Benji’s calmed down and is eating after being sufficiently emotionally terrorized.

 

Swallowing a mouthful, Benji looks in Will’s direction. He clears his throat of the lingering knot of emotions and gives a wry smile. “Thanks, Will. For this and the Freddos too.” Benji gives another watery smirk and watches Will soften as a result.

 

Will’s face lights up and a smile grows over his face. “I knew you’d like those. I asked the guy at that international market if they had any and he gave me the last case they had in stock. I guess I must have looked frantic because he charged me, like, half of what they should have been. A steal, considering you told me a few years ago how expensive they had gotten over the pond.”

 

Benji snorts out a laugh and nods, “If you consider twenty-two pence a pop for those little bastards expensive, then yes. Christ, you would have thought they were encrusted in gold the way Cadbury has them priced. And they got smaller too, the fuck? Down by like a fourth of the other size if I remember properly; it’s been years since I had the balls to give Cadbury the satisfaction of buying a couple of them. Just ridiculous if you’re asking this guy.”

 

He wipes a few remaining tears from the tops of his cheeks and takes in a large breath. His meltdown, as he was considering calling it should the two of them choose to reference this night at any point in the future, seems to be over. What also serves to help him feel better is the amused look Will gives him.

 

“That’s one of the big things you guys consider a crime, among a great deal of other issues,” Will smiles at him. The anxiety over coming to Benji’s place unannounced dissipates fast when he catches the way Benji’s look at him, so thankful and amused. Will edges up to stand, in search of water or some other form of beverage. “Water, beer, what do you want? Dealer’s pick.”

 

“There’s a couple of Coronas in a drawer in the fridge,” Benji directs. Will pads into the adjoining kitchen in search of the beer and finds what he’s looking for, and starts back to the living room with two longnecks dangling between his fingers. He hands one over to Benji, who murmurs in thanks, and the two open their beers on the corner of the table. “I’ll have to go ahead and apologize for the choice of beer I have. My mom was over a few days ago, just popped into town, and I bought her favorite. It’s not so bad if you can get by the fact that it fucking tastes like cow piss. But, I digress. It’ll just have to do for us.”

 

Again Will grins at him, amused at just how fired up he’s getting over the mundane things. Back to normal at last and Will sighs at this. While not entirely the way he was before they both went tear-assing after the syndicate, he’s getting on the right track.

 

Sometimes all it takes is the strange taste of Chinese food and chocolate, and also some low-quality beer, to get the two of them going again. Will likes how Benji’s a lot like him at times. They both tick a certain way that needs to be regulated by pretty much all sorts of strange interactions, strange things that are more than familiar to the two of them.

 

Another series of knocks sounds at the door and Will stands up to go let Ethan in. Ethan’s about like how Will is, looking freshly showered and quickly dressed, and he almost knocks Will over in an effort to get to the food on the coffee table.

 

“Yes, please, why don’t you come in,” Will deadpans while Ethan makes himself at home in front of Benji’s, giving his friend’s shoulder a clap while simultaneously going for a box of food. It goes quiet once the two most frazzled members of the team eat with no protest. Will looks back to observe. “The two of you are much pleasant when you’re eating. I’ll have to keep this in mind for future reference. Benji needed it most.”

 

“What are you saying, am I not worthy of this stir fry,” Ethan says in mock offense, stabbing his fork in the air, “or of these chocolate oranges?” he grabs one up in his free hand and threatens to throw it at Will by tossing it forward, only to catch it again in the same hand. “Apples and chocolate oranges, Will. I am thankful for the two of you and the agony you spare me so respectfully.” Will rolls his eyes and sits down with his teammates, delving in for dessert and purposefully avoiding the Freddos Benji appears to be treasuring. He keeps them close to his side while Will settles for an Aero bar.

 

It’s strange, he thinks a few years ago they had something like this in the states, but he eats it anyway, savoring the taste of chocolate on his tongue. In the time it takes for him to completely down the aero bar he stands to get Ethan a beer. What was Benji’s mom’s favorite beer looks to be Ethan’s too.

 

Benji didn’t think he’d like the taste of Corona and Freddos one after the other but it’s not so bad. It’s better than the bitter taste of adrenaline he had before Will and Ethan got there. He relaxes with the two around him, talking about nothing in particular like the debriefing a few hours before ( _if Benji had the floor and was able to explain it from his point of view, it was him holding back tears on Ethan’s left, Will looking rigid and like his own brand of stoic on Ethan’s right, and the head agent himself looking sternly at Hunley. Luther stood by the door and appeared to be unsuccessfully suppressing the urge to beat the shit out of Hunley_ ). It had all been so volatile and quickened that Benji doesn’t remember the drive back to his apartment.

 

Benji excuses himself after a while to get dressed for bed. The two guys stay in the living room to watch a DVD box set of _Law & Order_ on low volume. He can hear them talking about whichever episode they’re on as he goes for a fresh pair of boxers and a t-shirt.

 

_So you’re telling me it was the brother she was dating and not the boyfriend? No way, not even the Special Victims Unit writers are that fucking perverse. You must have read the episode description on the box wrong._

_I did not, Brandt. Apparently she WAS dating her brother, if my memory serves me correctly. Oh God, the best part’s coming up. When they finally let him know he was going out with his sister, the guy that’s playing the brother becomes the most ugly crier you will ever see. This episode is a tragedy in so many different ways, Will. You have yet to see the full extent of hot mess this show can become._

The aforementioned scene happens and Benji hears a swell of laughter come up from his living room. He can even hear Will give a pretty convincing mock of the guy's tears. Even he can’t hold back the smile that breaks through his neutral façade while he’s brushing his teeth.

 

_Ah, Jesus, why the hell did you pick this episode, you freak?_

_Don’t look at me; I wouldn’t subject the two of us to this kind of shit voluntarily! It was the first on the disc. Anyway it’s enough to make me want to finish out the rest of the episode. What do you say, Brandt?_

_Sure, why the hell not. Wait until the credits to call Benji in. He’ll probably want to get in on this action._

Benji finishes brushing his teeth and gives his hair a quick comb – showers have always caused it to turn into straw once it dried and tonight is no different – and he goes back to the living room.

 

Will has turned the lights off and Ethan’s made himself comfortable on the floor, using his leather jacket for a pillow. Benji sits next to Will on the couch, which for some reason has the pullout bed inside out and unfolded. Their seats are the spots on the corner of the bed.

 

“You’re probably going to pass out in here,” Will comments blindly, still watching the beginning of the episode. And he’s not right; while the show’s plot lays itself out Benji crawls to the top of the bed, going for the blanket he keeps rolled up on the back of the couch, and stretches out with half of his body beneath the blanket. Will follows him after a few seconds, snagging a corner of the blanket for himself.

 

Eyes growing heavy, Benji finds it hard to follow the show’s storyline, as he grows more tired with each passing second. Will is right there beside him, mindlessly touching Benji’s hand with all the delicacy the latter thought he didn’t have. The motion of Will’s thumb stroking over the pad of Benji’s palm is rhythmic and almost calming.

 

“I’m tired,” Benji breathes out, sliding down onto the foldout bed’s mattress more. He yawns hard enough to make his jaw crack and he watches Will sit up and bend down to bring the blanket up over him more.

 

“Then go to sleep,” Will whispers to him, hand hovering over Benji’s hair. “I’ll be right here. And, I guess, so will Ethan. That is, if he doesn’t fall asleep on the ground like a four-year-old.” Benji smiles at his unintelligible face and lets his eyes close, sleep that was once evasive finally being apprehended.

 

He wakes up a few hours later, unfortunately. It’s his usual wake-up time, around five in the morning if he had to make an educated guess. The sun just outside the near window is a vibrant shade of pink, signaling the early morning. His chest is heavy for some reason and he channels all his strength into looking down to see what it is. It just so happens to be Will’s head pillowed on his chest. Without disturbing Will he leans up just enough to see Ethan sleeping on the ground, just like how Will said he’d be.

 

Benji sighs and leans back, indulges himself in running his fingers through Will’s hair. He rolls his shoulders as best as he can with someone’s head on his breastbone and looks to his side to watch the sun rise. It’s dazzling, the light radiating against his sensitive pupils, but it gives him something to watch other than watching Will sleep, which is what he’d really like to do.

 

For the last few months it’s all he’s ever wanted to do, see Will dream right next to him, but not now. It’s not right, at least under these circumstances. Maybe later on down the road he’ll work to make the two of them a thing but for now their contact is mostly fraternal, he guesses.

 

Who knows, the both of them are tired and overworked and the least they want to do is sleep next to each other on a foldout couch in a rundown apartment with the head agent of their team and perhaps the most dangerous man known to them all sleeping like a toddler on the floor.

 

Further giving into the need of touch he leans down and rests his chin on the top of Will’s head. Will sleeps on, competing with Benji on who could be the most exhausted. He breathes quietly, sighing from time to time, and Benji would bet he was the most satisfied little fucker. Maybe it’s more than he wants to let on.

 

Ethan is the first person to get up and vertical. He stands up and stretches deeply, perching up on his tippy toes to come back down with a subdued groan. He looks at Benji through bleary eyes before stumbling back to the master bedroom to make use of the en suite bathroom.

 

Benji realizes he could make use of the head too but Will looks too comfortable to ask him to move. He suffers and tries to cross his legs but it turns out that Will has managed to put his entire upper body, thighs included, along Benji’s left side. He’s a solid guy and proves hard to move with a few good pushes. He gives up and lies there, suffering with some of the most intense morning pee pain he’s ever had the misfortune of experiencing, and Ethan comes back in looking more awake.

 

Will wakes up at that and looks up at Benji, looking as tired as Ethan did, and angles towards Benji’s mouth. It’s a sleepy little exchange, shouldn’t really mean anything as far as Benji’s concerned, but the first tentative press of Will’s lips to his comes to signify much more. Slow and a little awkward Benji kisses him back, finally finding the strength to move Will over on his side.

 

There the two of them are able to kiss deeper, hands wandering over shoulders and forearms in a blind search for more contact. Benji’s toes curl when Will’s hand cups the shell of his ear, finding the cradle of Benji’s skull with ease, touching the skin there gently. Benji tries to hide the way a moan bubbles up in his throat in response to the touch.

 

In the midst of all this Ethan has dissolved into the kitchen in search for coffee. He shuts the sliding door behind him to allow the two to have their privacy amongst the early morning darkness. He can hear the two of them and it really doesn’t bother him; he’s always had a real quiet assumption that there was more between them than they happened to let on. He’s glad Benji and Will are both so alike, so humorous yet multifaceted guys, because they really do work together. Even when they’re necking on a foldout couch at now 5:30 in the morning, Ethan still thinks the thing they’ve got can work. Besides, it’s just what he has with Jane. 

 

Meanwhile Benji leans back for breath and finds it taken away from him when he finally get a full look at Will’s face, the sun having risen just enough to provide more light. He’s almost glowing, eyes a shade of clear blue when given a spotlight of the sun’s rays, and Benji wants nothing more for this miniscule moment to last for a lifetime.

 

Will smiles at him, exhaustion still hiding in the lines of his face but more subdued now. “You really are the best thing to sleep on; I hope you know this.”

 

Benji can’t hide his bashful nod and instead of going for Will’s mouth, he presses a kiss to the center of Will’s forehead. Once he’s done he rests his against Will’s and lets a slow breath escape through his nose in a quiet hiss. “It took me kissing you at five in the morning to get you to move off me. Ethan teased me by getting up to pee and you had me pinned to the bed. It’s okay; it’s better than an alarm, isn’t it?”

 

Again Will’s mouth turns up at the corners, a little mischievous, as he tends to be when he is at the center of attention, “Definitely.”

 


End file.
